


Catch Phrase!

by Kalikuks



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:25:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7226074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalikuks/pseuds/Kalikuks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four instances McCree uses a favourite phrase of his around Hanzo. </p><p>Rated M for the 3rd instance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stubborn as a Mule

**Author's Note:**

> Surprisingly that phrase has nothing to do with noon or it being high

“I thought I had told you that the answer was no.” 

Hanzo tried to remain indifferent to the puppy dog eyes McCree was sending his way as he nocked another arrow, a mantra of “ignore him, and he will stop pestering you” running through his mind as he took aim at yet another target. 

He let the arrow fly just as McCree’s district southern drawl sounded next to his ear, a smooth “Aw. Don’t be like that Darlin’” causing the slightest flinch in his usually impeccable form.

The arrow hit a centimetre to the left of the target. Hanzo scowled in response, turning to McCree to glare up at him. 

McCree’s face was unapologetic, cigar hanging out of his mouth as usual and an eyebrow raised at Hanzo’s sour look. 

“Do you not have anything better to do than pester me?” he perhaps had bit out the words a little too venomously, but the cowboy hadn’t been deterred in the past by far worse. 

“Wouldn’t be pesterin’ ya if ya’d let me try yer bow like I’ve been askin’.” McCree huffed, lips even turned down in a pout around the cigar, “A man can say ‘please’ only so many times Sweetheart, before he takes ta different methods. Like annoyin’ his boyfriend inta letting him try out his bow.” 

Hanzo’s rolled his eyes, “So you resort to behaving like a spoiled child to get what you want?” 

“Aw, yer killin’ me darlin’.” McCree took his cigar in between the forefinger and thumb of his metallic hand, slapping his other one over his heart dramatically, “Seriously, ya wound me with yer words.” 

It took Hanzo’s unimpressed stare boring into him for two whole minutes before McCree faltered, placing his cigar back between his lips as he shuffled a few steps from Hanzo awkwardly.

“Alright. Fine, be that way.” McCree mumbled around the cigar, “One day I’ll convince ya yet.” 

Hanzo only gave an amused snort, “It has not worked the first fifteen times, Koishii. It will not work the next thirty.” 

McCree could only continue to grumble around his cigar.


	2. Sweeter than Heaven

McCree blinked blearily into the darkness of his room. His tired eyes trained on the digital clock on the nightstand, and part of him hoped that the darn thing was lying about it being three in the goddamn morning. 

Attempting to turn his back on the clock and trying to return to sleep however was another story entirely, now that McCree’s sleep addled mind caught up to the realization of a pair of arms tight around his middle and a warm presence at his back. Ah, right.

That at least brought a smile to McCree’s face, and he couldn't help but gently stroke the tattooed arm that held him tight. Of course he should have remembered his bedmate was a light sleeper. 

He felt Hanzo stir behind him before the smaller man shifted and his arms were loose around his stomach, McCree taking this opportunity to change his position and finally turn his back on that goddamn clock. The sight that greeted him was far better than any damn alarm clock anyways. 

Hanzo himself was blinking up at him, eyes lidded heavily with sleep and hair messed up in all the right ways, and McCree couldn’t help but revel in the fact only he got to witness the deadly assassin this way. 

“Yer killin’ me Darlin’,” McCree started, voice soft and reverent, “with ya lookin’ this cute. Didn’t mean ta wake ya.” 

Hanzo only made a soft hum in response, his eyes sliding closed again, arms snaking around McCree’s middle once again as the assassin closed the distance between them to bury his face against McCree’s chest. 

McCree responded with a soft contented noise in return, pulling Hanzo closer still and pressing a kiss to the top of his head before he drifted off to sleep once more.


	3. Hotter than Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter the fic is rated M for. Feel free to skip it if it's not your thing!

McCree could do little more than squirm in impatience, testing the hold of the ribbon Hanzo had used to bind his hands above his head. The movement earned him a softly growled order to cease his wriggling. 

“Why? Ya gonna make me stop?” McCree was in no position to taunt the other man, but he might as well work Hanzo up a little. Things usually got interesting when he did.

“No.” Hanzo’s voice was low, nothing more than a sultry purr, breath tickling McCree’s thighs, “You’re going to behave yourself Koishii, or else you will get nothing more than this.” 

He punctuated his statement by nipping McCree’s inner thighs, making the cowboy groan low in his throat. Hanzo followed up by suckling a nice bruise on McCree’s skin to match all the others he’d made. McCree could only watch with eyes lidded in both parts adoration and lust, fluttering them closed and letting his head fall against the bed with a sigh when Hanzo soothed the bites he’d made with his tongue. 

“Yer killin’ me Darlin’…” 

That earned him a huff of laughter against his heated skin, and he couldn't stop the pleasant shudder that followed. Soon Hanzo raised up to nuzzle McCree’s hip, the stubble of his beard rough against the sensitive skin, the touch inches away from where McCree desired it. 

“I suppose this would be a slow death if that were the case.” Hanzo ghosted his mouth along the length of McCree’s cock, lips centimetres from the heated skin, “Though, there are worse ways to go.” 

McCree could only whine and tug at his bound hands again, frustrated when Hanzo moved to start kissing the sensitive skin of his other thigh. 

A slow death indeed.


	4. Night Terrors

McCree never considered himself a light sleeper, but then again he hadn't shared a bed with someone for a long time. So when he woke up to the sound of urgent murmuring and thrashing behind him, it took him a little while to recall that he no longer slept alone most nights. 

Flicking on the lamb beside the bed revealed the mess of a state Hanzo was in, the other man having somehow tangled himself in the bedsheets. The lamplight caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, his expression one of distress as he cried out in Japanese. 

McCree watched for all of three seconds before he couldn't stand watching Hanzo suffer any longer, making the mistake of shaking the assassin awake a little too roughly from the nightmare. Needless to say, the distraught man had McCree flat on his back within seconds of waking, hands clutching at McCree’s throat. 

Luckily it wasn't a tight enough grip from stopping McCree from speaking, “Hey… Yer killin’ me Darlin’… almost literally this time,” he managed to crack a strained smile at the man hovering over him. 

The grip on his throat released immediately, with Hanzo retreating from McCree entirely to curl into a ball back on his side of the bed. McCree only rubbed the back of his neck as he sat back up, filing the knowledge away in his brain that waking up a trained assassin so abruptly hadn't been the best decision on his part. He cast a glance over to Hanzo, worry marring his expression as he noticed how rigid his form was.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” McCree turned towards his lover slowly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “ya doin’ alright? Ya seemed to be havin' a real bad nightmare there.” 

Hanzo only seemed to tense under his hold, and it took a little more coaxing on McCree’s part for him to uncurl himself from his ball. Eventually he’d even managed to get Hanzo to allow himself to be held, McCree having gone to grab his serape to wrap them both in as Hanzo continued to calm down.

“…So,” McCree began when Hanzo’s trembling had finally subsided, “do ya want ta talk about it?”

Hanzo shook his head against where he’d buried it against McCree’s chest. He did however move to pull McCree as close as they could possibly be. 

“Alright. I won’t press ya ta talk.” McCree pressed a kiss to the side of Hanzo’s head, soothingly running his hand up and down his back, “Jus’ know that I’m here fer ya.”

It was barely audible that he almost missed it, but Hanzo did utter a soft “Thank you”.

**Author's Note:**

> This Idea would not leave me I had to do it.


End file.
